


Cada día (cada hora)

by pipitass



Series: Si tú me olvidas [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Manchester City
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-04 15:32:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5339276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipitass/pseuds/pipitass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kun stays up all night watching videos from the City YouTube channel after his agent call him and tells him the deal is through. The place looks nice, and so does the staff, but there's one french kid that really catches his eye.</p>
<p>A little more than 1000 miles away is Sami, talking with Vincent about who might be coming to the club that summer. Vinnie tells him that Agüero is practically a done deal, to treat him nicely or else he'll cut his balls off. When Sami hangs up he opens his laptop and does a quick google search on him. He looks nice, if not a little too goofy, but Sami can work with that. The guy has some incredible skills as well, and something tells Sami that together they'll end up doing incredible things.</p>
<p>OR: 5 times Samir feels like him and Kun can conquer the world (+1 time they do)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dexterously](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dexterously/gifts), [Rabia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabia/gifts).



> A prequel to Si poco a poco dejas de quererme (dejaré de quererte poco a poco), although it can by read on its own. Let's pretend that Samir's deal with City went through before Kun's, yeah? Enjoy!

I. 

Kun’s dad had gone with him the day he signed the contract, took his medical test, and was given a tour of the place. They’d stood by the sidelines as they watched the first team train, during which Kun had taken a first glance at his new teammates. He immediately noticed Vincent, and he understood from just a glance why he was captain. He also spotted the infamous Balotelli, bantering with Mancini, his new coach. All in all, he felt comfortable in the decision he’d made, and although at first he could not picture himself in sky blue, there was something about the soft Mancunian drizzle that made him feel at home. 

-

In all honesty, Kun was quite nervous when he was introduced to the team. He felt slightly intimidated by the cold stare from the unsmiling Aleksandar Kolarov, and had to look over at Pablo- his old teammate from Argentina- for a rush of confidence. After the same old platitudes, they all started walking out to training, except for Kun, whose hands were trembling slightly, making it harder for him to tie his cleats properly. He heard some snickering behind him, and when he turned around he saw Samir Nasri leaning against his locker, watching him with an amused smirk. 

Kun didn’t say anything- he had no idea how to speak English, nor did he want any problems with his teammates from the first day. Samir playfully rolled his eyes at him, a gesture Kun would soon grow fond of, and started speaking to Kun in accented yet accurate Spanish. 

“Nervous?”

Kun only nodded, looking back down at his feet and, finally, being able to tie his laces. 

Samir walked towards him, sitting in the seat besides Kun. “Don’t be, they’re all good guys.”

Biting his lip, Kun wondered wether this would be the right time to crack a joke, and how well Samir would take it. _Fuck it_ , he thought. “Even Aleks? He looks like he has no soul.”

A loud laugh escaped Samir’s lips, tossing his head back against the seat and then looking back at Kun. “Aleks? He just wants to look tough. Trust me, he’s one of the funniest guys you’ll ever meet.” 

Kun just shook his head, sighing, but with a slight smile on his lips. 

“Hey, don’t be nervous, yeah? You’ll fit in just fine. Trust me.” 

Nodding, they stood up, walking out towards the field. As soon as Kun stepped on the grass, he felt like he was back at home, in his lovely Avellaneda, playing for his beloved Independiente. Samir turned to look at him, giving him a wink before running off onto the field to warm up. 

Kun took a deep breath, reminded himself that this was the best choice for him, that he had Pablo there for him, that he was amongst the best of the best. Looking around, he exhaled, breaking off into a jog and catching up to the others. 

_I can do this_ , he thought.

-

They took it easy that first day, and Kun couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of him. And oblivious as Kun was, he didn’t notice that on the other side of the field, Samir stood watching, with intent, the way Kun dribbled around everyone in the five-a-side he was playing in, smiling to himself. 

As Kun kept playing, Silva walked over to Samir, who was still watching. “What are you looking at?”

Samir pointed at Kun, and Silva smiled as well. 

It went without saying, but they were both thinking the same. 

It was going to be a great season. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

II.

 

Kun would have been lying if he said he’d expected his second hat-trick ever, and his first for city, to come so soon.

It was still vivid in his memory, everything, those three goals and everything that came in between when they were sitting in their locker room celebrating and chanting.

The first one had been thanks to Silva, who received the ball from Tévez and passed it to Kun, who finished cleanly and sent the ball to the back of the net. Silva had also been responsible for the third one, and in part for the second, yet he was simply smiling as he sat in front of his locker, checking his texts and occasionally thanking whoever came by to congratulate him on such as great match.

Kun was sitting in front of his locker as well, head leaned back against the metal surface, laughing along with his teammates. That was until the one responsible for his second goal came along, dragging him up from his seat and pulling him into a tight hug. Samir and Kun had become close friends during the short months since their arrival at Manchester, and they both had pretty much the same non-existent boundaries when it came to personal space.

“What a match! What a player!” Samir was laughing and shouting in Kun’s ear, who kept a tight grip on the Frenchman’s shirt.

They kept walking backwards, until Kun slipped on a shirt someone had discarded on the floor, dragging them both downwards as they fell down. The whole dressing room was staring at them, amused, and when they both burst out laughing the others did so too, sure that they were ok.

When their laughter died out, Kun opened his eyes, meeting the brown ones of Samir’s above him. They were still smiling, and as Samir, straightened up, he jabbed his index finger in the Argentine’s shirt.

“You and I, my friend, are going to do amazing things together.”

Kun smiled at him, not knowing what to say.

He decided to pull him back down in a hug instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Had a few things going on. Hope you enjoyed! :)


	3. Chapter 3

III. 

 

Everything had gone by in a blur, and Kun was still trying to make sense of everything that had happened in the last 24 hours.

They were at Joe’s house, celebrating like madmen the fact that they’d won the Premier League, the fact that they were now written into the history books as legends, as the ones that made a dream long forgotten become a reality for the Citizens.

44 years, that’s how long City had gone without winning the Premier League, and oh, how close they’d come to making that number go up to 45.

But no, they’d done it. All of them, as a team. Yet there was still a certain someone that deserved the title of the hero of the day, the true legend whose name would never be forgotten in Manchester City history.

And that name, was Sergio Agüero.

He hadn’t yet processed it, hadn’t yet accepted the fact that he’d scored that miracle goal that had gotten them the title, yet he had pushed all those thoughts aside for later.

In that moment, all he’d wanted to do was celebrate.

He’d long lost count of how many glasses of champagne (make that bottles, actually) he’d had during the day, and everything was starting to become blurry, his actions slowing down and his judgement disappearing. It was then that it happened, one second messing around with Silva’s hair (much to the annoyance of the still partially sober Spaniard) and the next being dragged back to the kitchen by Samir, laughing and joking, until he found himself being pressed against the counter by the latter.

The air suddenly became tense, yet Kun was so wrecked that he kept smiling, glancing momentarily at Sami’s lips. He averted his eyes as Sami leaned in, not quite getting there, leaving it up to a drunk-off-his-ass Kun to decide wether to close the gap or not. Kun took his time deciding, placing his hand on Sami’s cheek and caressing it with his thumb. He had no idea what he was doing, and although it was an event he would not remember the next morning, he would have been thankful for Edin walking into the kitchen right before Kun made a choice, forcing the Frenchman to back away, walking out of the kitchen and leaving a giddy Kun behind.

However, just because Kun never remembered, didn’t mean that Sami would forget.


	4. Chapter 4

IV. 

 

It was almost midnight, and for some reason unknown to both of them, they had decided to take trip to Paris on their weekend off.

They'd been out the whole day, visiting museums where Samir would have to do most of the translating, because Kun was too lazy to take an audio guide with him, which led to warped interpretations of several paintings and what was probably the most peculiar explanation of the French Revolution someone could have ever given.

When nighttime had started to fall upon them, they'd made their way over to the Champs-Elysées, where they'd gone into the first club they'd stumbled upon. They were both tired, but a shot of vodka each and the throbbing bass of some R&B song had them both wide awake in a heartbeat.

Kun had never been big on dancing to anything other than cumbia, yet he found himself grinding onto a girl who smelled like sandalwood up close, with dark skin and even darker hair, to the beat of a song he'd never heard before. She was stunning, held herself with confidence and moved in ways that made Kun struggle as he tried to keep up- but he just wasn't interested. Subtly, he moved away from her, tried to step off the dance floor. She got the hint, didn't even look disappointed as she sauntered off as well, disappearing into the throng of people filling up the club.

Tiredness was starting to hit him again, so he walked towards the bar, which was slightly elevated, meaning he could see almost all the dance floor from where he sat. It was hard to spot Sami, he'd been wearing dark pants and a black leather jacket, and after scanning the whole place twice, he gave up and turned around. That was when he saw him.

Sami was sitting at one of the tall tables near the bar, chatting up a blonde girl with intimidatingly high heels. They were both smiling, and he could see Sami had his hand on her bare thigh from where he was. He analysed them for a while, they were both smiling, occasionally dropping their gazes to the other's mouth, just to shoot them right back up again. Kun could see Samir slowly tracing his fingers up her leg, until they were just grazing the hem of her tight skirt. In that moment, Kun decided to look away, but he didn't miss the way the girl's eyes widened a bit, or how Samir remained perfectly cool and collected, that famous smirk of his plastered onto his face. He also didn't miss the way they both stood up, going God knows where, Sami's hand pressed dangerously below her back.

Kun smiled and shook his head to himself, ordering another shot of blue coloured vodka and downing it with his eyes closed.

Playing around with his phone for a while, he watched the minutes tick by. He was surprised when he saw Sami return only 5 minutes later, looking just as he did before.

"Quickie?" Kun asked, eyebrows raised in question and a smug smile on his lips.

Samir rolled his eyes with a grin, leaning in close to shout in Kun's ear so he'd hear what he wanted to say, “Guess you could say so."

Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, Kun took Sami’s wrist and dragged him towards the entrance of the club. “Alright, you’ve had your fun. Let’s get out of here.”

Sami didn’t have the energy to protest, so he stumbled out of the club behind Kun, cold Parisian air hitting them both like an unexpected punch to the gut. They instinctively shuffled closer together, walking swiftly across slippery sidewalks as they each focused on the almost frozen puffs of breath coming from their mouths, lost in their thoughts.

-

A while later, it had started to drizzle lightly. He wasn’t sure where exactly they were, but he figured Samir must know. After all, they were in fucking Paris, weren't they?

"Sami, hey- where are we going?” Kun stopped abruptly, hands buried deep inside his pockets.

Sami was still buzzing from the drinks they'd had before, and he turned around, giving Kun a wide grin as he spread his arms in the air, "I don't know!"

Kun widened his eyes, "What do you mean you don't know? You're French, for fuck's sake!"

“Not from Paris though, from Marseille, my friend! And that's far, far away!" Samir laughed, gripping Kun's wrist tightly and dragging him across a slightly crowded street. Giggles kept coming out of his mouth, even as he ran across another street where there wasn't a pedestrian crossing, Kun trailing behind and angry drivers playing a symphony of horns and french curses.

Sami didn't seem to care though, kept running until they were outside a closing Carrefour, where they slid in and bribed the manager into leaving it open for just five more minutes, during which Sami and Kun ran down the aisles, chucking food and sweets into a small cart. They came out with a baguette poking out of a paper bag, which was filled with Haribo gummies and a tray of turkey ham and cheese.

Despite their small stop, Sami kept on going, Kun following behind with slightly reddened cheeks from the cold and the running. They took the subway at one point, which was mostly empty besides a few men and a young couple, who were standing right in front of them. They were lost in each other’s eyes, smiling and teasing each other, the guy pressing the girl closer towards him. Kun saw how entranced Samir was with them, and he had to nudge him so the other two wouldn’t notice him staring. The couple got off at the Bastille station, leaving Sami and Kun practically alone. Kun looked around, noticed the way Sami was staring emptily at the floor. Once the subway stopped at Gare de Lyon, Sami stood up and beckoned Kun outside. They walked in silence around the Gare de Lyon station, Samir tossing some coins to an old man playing the guitar on one of the long tunnels that connected one subway line with another. They found themselves on another subway, this one completely empty besides them, and Sami pulled on Kun's hand once they reached a stop called Cour Saint-Émillion, which Kun recognised as the stop right before the one where their hotel was.

There was a starking contrast between the dark and dirty subway station and the place itself. It looked like a small village, fairy lights covering the entrances to restaurants and shops that lined the streets. It felt like Kun was in the middle of a romantic movie, and he was shaken from his trance by Sami tugging on his wrist and dragging him over to a bench at the end of the street.

They sat in silence for a while, Sami breaking off a bit of the baguette and making himself an impromptu sandwich with the cheese and turkey ham they’d bought. When he was finished, he looked around, the buzz from the alcohol starting to slowly wear off. He took out a packet of gummy bears, opening it and offering some to Kun, who took a handful and shoved them in his mouth.

"What does that say?” Kun asked, breaking the silence.

"What does what say?"

Kun pointed at a poster that had been stuck on one of the walls. It was the largest, taking up most of the space.

"Ah, that one. It says 'le monde est à vous'. The world is yours," Sami turned around and smiled at Kun, who smiled back. “It’s from a movie called ‘La Haine’.”

“What’s it about?”

Samir looked up, thinking. “Well, it’s about these three immigrant guys that find themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. They face racism, discrimination, just,” -Samir stopped for a second, looking at Kun, who was listening closely, “hatred, in general. That’s why the movie is called ‘La Haine’. It means 'the hatred’ in French. La haine attire la haine. Hatred breeds hatred."

Silence fell upon them once again, as Kun looked at the night sky above them and said the only thing that came to his mind. "I like the way you speak French."

Samir just laughed, “Merci beaucoup, mais j'aime plus quand tu parle l'espagnol."

"Hey, I said I liked it, not that I could understand it."

Thinking for a while, Sami spoke up. "Peut-être," he paused, a ghost of a sad smile on his lips, "c'est mieux comme ça."

Kun looked back at him, confused, but then Samir started laughing again, throwing an arm around Kun’s shoulders and pulling him closer to him, starting to ramble on about how he wished they could stay in France at least for one more week, telling Kun all about the places he’d take him to if they could.

Still, Kun couldn't help but wonder about all those times Samir had broken off into fluent strings of French around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cour Saint Emillion has got to be one of the prettiest places in Paris, look it up. 
> 
> Also, I haven't practiced my French for 2 years now and I only took it for 3, so if there are any mistakes let me know! 
> 
> Translations: 
> 
> Merci beaucoup, mais j'aime plus quand tu parle l'espagnol- thank you very much, although I like it more when you speak spanish. 
> 
> Peut-être, c'est mieux comme ça- maybe it's better that way. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes are my own. Thanks for reading!


End file.
